


F U Novak

by herbivoredinosaur



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Feels, Bad Boy Dean Winchester, Blow Jobs, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Light Dom/sub, Loner Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Porn With Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-01-23 01:50:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21312196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbivoredinosaur/pseuds/herbivoredinosaur
Summary: Cas gets lumped with bad boy Dean Winchester as a partner for a history project. He can't stand the guy. He's a walking cliche, everything Cas hates in the world and yet he cant seem to help himself once Dean gets on his bed. He needs to see what Dean looks like when he comes.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 45
Kudos: 184





	1. You want this.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, it's a high school AU were Cas has no friends and Dean lives in detention, were they hate each other but cant keep their hands off each other, were Dean refuses to admit he likes Cas' touching him! How original of me... ;)
> 
> I had a day off today so I wrote this. You know what's coming. Porn, lots of porn and anger and probably a happy ending because I can't help myself. It's a WIP. 
> 
> And yes, it's extremely dubious consent. You have been warned.

* * *

Cas always got his run in after school. He had to, the only way to burn off the energy of sitting in classrooms hour after hour listening to teachers drone on about SATs and college applications. It felt like it simmered just under the surface, bubbling away till the bell rang for 4pm and he could finally expel it. He used to run on the track at school till the coach spotted him and tried to coax him onto the track team. Not a chance. Cas didn’t need to be a part of anything, being a part of an academic institution was enough for him.

The woods behind his house was where he ran. He had been trapped in concrete walls for hours but out there he was free, he could spread his wings and sometimes he picked up a pace fast enough he wondered if he could take off. If only. He had one more school year left then he was out of this place to never return.

When he got back from one of his runs, he spotted his older brother leaning against the backdoor to their house. He had that mischievous smirk on his face that told Cas he was up to no good.

“What did you do?” he asked through panted breathes. He came to a halt in his garden, hands on his knees to get his breath back. The sound of his heartbeat in his ears felt good. The way his legs felt like they could give way any moment felt even better.

“There’s someone with awfully pretty green eyes waiting for you inside.” Gabriel replied.

Cas looked up at his brother with furrowed brows. “What?”

“Something about a history project, ringing any bells?”

He was coming up short but then again Cas was never one to pay attention in many classes. History included. There were vague recollections coming back to his endorphin filled brain, something about choosing a moment in history that tended to be forgotten about and presenting it to the class. He hadn’t expected it to be a group project though.

Who the hell had pretty green eyes in his history class?

Cas climbed up the stairs to his brother, Gabriel seemed to be more than elated at the situation for some reason. He wondered if it was because Gabriel had done something to Cas’ poor school peer or if it was just due to someone from Cas’ school being at his house. It wasn’t like Cas brought anyone home.

That would mean Cas had friends, which he didn’t.

When he walked to his front door, he was met with the back of a brown leather jacket and sandy blonde hair styled hair.

Dean Winchester.

Fan-fucking-tastic. Trust Cas to be given mister bad boy to be his partner. Dean was popular for all the wrong reasons. Boys wanted to be him, girls wanted to be _with_ him, teachers hated him, and Cas found his stereotypical muscle car and rock n roll persona all too much. He was a walking cliché. When Dean heard the footsteps, he turned around and their eyes met.

_Mhm, suppose they are kind of pretty_ Cas thought.

He shook the thought away, blaming his post run high for his lack of inhibitions.

“Hello Dean,” he said wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Dean’s eyes seemed to take in Cas in front of him, the sheen of sweat on him, his grey long-sleeved top soaked through stuck to his skin and black shorts. Cas just stared back at him, not too sure what he was seeing till he noticed the tiniest lick of Dean’s tongue on his bottom lip.

Interesting.

“Sup Cas,” Dean brought his attention back to Cas’ face. “Where you wanna do this?”

“Do what?”

“The history project?” Dean lifted up the history book in his hand, battered and torn. “Why, were you thinking of something else?” he asked with a slight smirk.

Gabriel sniggered behind him. Cas turned his head to glare at his brother who quickly made himself scarce, shuffling into the kitchen to no doubt find a lollipop to gag himself on.

He had almost forgotten Dean had a quick tongue. This was going to be a long evening.

Not rising to Dean’s comment Cas gestured his hand for Dean to follow him upstairs. He brought Dean into his bedroom. He wasn’t expecting guests, not that he particularly cared what Dean thought of his room. It was non-descript. A double bed shoved to the corner, his desk filled with his current drawing and his walls filled with his own sketches or art he found interesting. Dean appeared to be taking it in.

“I’m going to shower,” Cas grabbed a spare change of clothes. “Try not to break anything.”

Dean scoffed. “I’m not a child Cas.”

Cas mumbled a response as he closed the bedroom door, “Could have fooled me.”

He heard Dean calling him something expletive. Cas ignored that too, deciding to shower quickly. He washed away the sweat off his body, running his hands deep into his muscles to loosen them up after the surge of adrenaline. He fought the urge to touch himself, that would only prolong the shower and he didn’t trust Dean to be left alone in his room for any longer than necessary.

After getting dressed he padded back into his bedroom, rubbing his hair dry with a smaller towel. Dean was sat at his desk, still staring at the art on his walls. His jacket now discarded, arms folded over his chest, pulling the black Henley tight to pronounce his biceps. Cas now wished he had touched himself in the shower.

There was no denying Dean was attractive.

That didn’t stop him being an insufferable asshole and shallow beyond compare.

Cas sat down on his bed, crossed his legs and threw the wet towel into his laundry hamper.

“I have to admit I have no idea what this project is about.” He said breaking the silence.

Dean chuckled, turning around in the swivel chair. “You? Not paying attention? Never.”

He wanted to ask how Dean knew that Cas wasn’t one for paying attention but that would open up a conversation he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to have. They needed to stay on track, no digressions. That didn’t mean Cas couldn’t get his own back at the slight dig. He refused to let Dean think he could get one over on him.

“Says the guy who only turns up to class when the mood strikes him.” Cas said with disdain.

“Well lucky for you the mood struck me today,” Dean reached for his book that he left on the bed, he opened up a page that had a piece of paper in it, detailing their project. Cas took it before Dean could, scanning his eyes over it.

“Seems straight forward enough,” Cas put the paper down and pulled his laptop from under his pillow to pull him a search engine. “We can do it on Stonewall. It’s not in the school curriculum, not readily known about unless you’re a part of our community.”

He looked up from his laptop to see Dean was on board with it. He was met with Dean staring at him like he had five heads.

Cas squinted his eyes at him, “You do _know_ about Stonewall right?”

“I wasn’t born under a rock. I know about Stonewall, I just didn’t know _you_ were part of that community,” he clarified with slight gruff. He moved to sit on the bed beside Cas to look at his laptop screen.

Cas shrugged as a response. It wasn’t like he went about screaming it, then again Cas didn’t go about doing much at school, apart from walking and only answering when being directly spoken to which was rare. Teachers and school peers tended to leave him alone. He preferred it. This was the longest conversation he had had with someone who wasn’t a family member or a hook up in years.

The smell of cigarette smoke suddenly rimmed his nose. He grimaced at it, shuffling over a bit. Dean sighed audibly, “Christ Cas, what now?”

“I can’t stand the smell of smoke.” Cas answered.

Dean lifted his top up to his nose. Cas managed to see a glimpse of his bare skin. Dean must be nose blind to it by now as he didn’t seem to notice the retched smell of it. “I can’t do much about it unless you want me to take my top off?”

Again, with the quick tongue, trying to set Cas on edge. It slightly worked this time. A flashing image of a topless Dean ran through Cas’ mind. He shook it away. This was not going well. The sooner he got Dean Winchester out of his room the better.

“No, just,” Cas refused to meet Dean’s eye. “Stay there and take notes of what I read out.”

Dean huffed but reached for a pad of paper and a pen from Cas’ desk. Cas pulled up a few sources from Stonewall, calling out important people and dates for Dean to create some kind of a timeline. They spoke a bit about how they think it should be presented, not sugar coating over police brutality and how often forgotten the person who started it had been a black drag queen.

He was surprised about Dean’s knowledge on it. He hadn’t thought Dean had much going on in his mind aside from girls and cars. Perhaps he had judged Dean too soon. It seemed Dean was more than meets the eye.

Cas found a mini documentary about the aftermath of Stonewall and suggested they watch it to give their brains a break from reading and writing. They set it up on his swivel chair so they could watch it on his bed.

Cas shuffled in closer to Dean and Dean clocked it, “What about the smoke?”

“I’ll suffer through it for the sake of Stonewall.” Cas replied with a playful tone. Dean smiled, settling down on his stomach on Cas’ bed.

He refused to acknowledge how good Dean looked on it.

Once he was settled on his stomach too, pillow under his arms he pressed play on the video. They lay there in comfortable silence, watching the images of the riot fill the screen, there was a narrator speaking over it and as much as Cas said he paid attention to it, he really couldn’t.

There was something about lying on his bed with Dean that distracted him. It wasn’t like Dean was the first person to lie on his bed, plenty of faceless people have graced his bedroom. Perhaps it was because they weren’t doing anything, just lying there watching the movie that was the problem. The only time someone else was on Cas’ bed was when they were doing far more graphic activities than watching a documentary. It confused Cas. He felt his brain was bleeding memories and the present moment together.

Images of Dean under him, his pink lips parted and panting out Cas’ name while he tore him apart like he had done to many others. It flooded his brain. It was all he could think of. What Dean would look like if Cas got his hands on him? Does he bite his lips when he comes? Would his whole-body shudder if Cas took him in his mouth?

Cas couldn’t control it, shaking one away only brought back two more.

“Cas?” Dean asked, momentarily pulling Cas from his fantasies.

He turned his head to look at Dean. When did they get this close? Dean’s breathe was hot on his face, his green eyes searching in Cas for something. They were awfully pretty.

Fuck it. He needed this and some part of his brain told him Dean did too.

Cas pushed Dean’s shoulder hard with his hand, making Dean roll over onto his back with force. Cas got up, straddling Dean’s thighs in one sure moment. Dean rose up onto his elbows to protest, “What the hell are you – holy shit!” he cut Dean off when he took a hold of Dean’s crotch over his jeans, not all that surprised that Dean was half hard but enjoying it all the same.

He palmed it, letting it swell in his hand.

“Cas, fuck – _Cas_ – wait…” Dean’s voice starting to crack a little and Cas hadn’t even really started. The things he wanted to do to this boy. There weren’t enough pages in a book to write it all down. He had no idea what had come over him. His need to rip an orgasm from Dean was all he could think about.

“Do you really want me to stop?” he questioned Dean as he started to undo his belt like it personally offended him. His hands went to his buttons, popping each one, “Because I don’t think you do,” Cas reached into Dean’s boxers, taking a hold of his aching cock. “I think you want this, don’t you Dean?”

“Christ Cas,” Dean arched into the touch like he couldn’t help it. “You can’t just – ugh _fuck_.”

He rolled his thumb over the head of Dean’s cock, eliciting a pearl of precum with ease. A dark smirk grew on Cas’ face watching Dean fall apart under his touch. The boy had collapsed back onto the bed, a hand thrown over his eyes and bottom lip snug between his teeth. It was better than Cas imagined. Dean was wrecked and already chasing Cas’ hand.

Cas spat in his palm to help himself out, moving his hand up and down Dean’s shaft, picking up pace while he twisted his wrist, letting the head of Dean’s cock disappear into his tight fist to only reappear, angrier and pinker than before. Dean’s cock felt good in his hand, probably taste even better in his mouth.

Scooting further down he leveled himself with Dean’s cock, filling his mouth with saliva as he sized up just how much of it he could take. His movements caught Dean’s attention. The boy looked down at Cas, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

“What are you – oh fuck..”

Cas licked a strip up Dean’s cock making his whole-body shudder. He smiled, eyes darting up to look at Dean who had yet to pull his from the sight below him. Cas licked down his shaft, pressing his tongue to the vein that jutted out underneath. Dean let out the most beautiful whine, and fell back down onto the bed, surrendering to Cas.

He took Dean in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and sucking lightly. There was no smell of smoke here, just 100% pure Dean musk. It was intoxicating, spurring Cas on to take more and more of him till he managed to take Dean to his hilt, nose buried in Dean’s curls. Another shudder from the boy under him letting him know Dean was slowly losing it. On the uptake he swirled his tongue around, feeling Dean’s cock pulse in his mouth. Moans rolled out of Dean, each one as filthy as the next and then without warning Dean spilled into Cas’ mouth, hot spurts coated the inside of his mouth and he took it all, swallowing each drop that Dean would give him till he was spent and pushing Cas off of him.

Cas went, rolling over onto his back to catch his breath. He licked his lips, savouring the mild salted taste of Dean. The bed shifted and Dean got up. Cas watched him pull his boxers and jeans back up with haste. His face flushed but brows furrowed. He grabbed his jacket and history book.

Oh, he was leaving. Cas shouldn’t be surprised. They always did. He sat up to watch Dean go.

Dean paused before he left, voice stern, filled with anger, “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again Novak and if you tell anyone...”

“Let me guess, you’ll kill me?” Cas interrupted him, eyes fixated on Dean, not one bit intimidated by the bad boy attitude that seemed to have resurfaced. Cas knew now what Dean looked like, what he sounded like, what he tasted like. He licked his lips, catching the lasting pieces of Dean’s cum, making sure Dean saw it before he left, slamming Cas’ door behind him that it shook a picture frame.

He fell back onto his bed.

It didn’t take long before Gabriel showed up, leaning in the door frame, lollipop lodged into the side of his mouth. “You scared green eyes away.”

Cas sighed, stretching out his limbs like a cat, unphased by it all. “He’ll come back.” 

Gabriel hummed in agreement, "They always do."

* * *


	2. Oops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas interrupts Dean and a cheerleader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT 14/11/19 - I edited the end of this because I don't actually want Cas to be nice in this fic, at least not yet.

* * *

The following two days Dean had been absent from school, not that Cas was all that surprised. He rarely attended a full week at school and was probably having an internal freak out that Cas’ mouth had been on his cock.

Admittedly the replaying of Dean’s sex filled moans were what got Cas through his days. He tended to stay at the back of the class, stare out of the window or doodle in the margins of the paper. Daydreams of pretty green eyes and how his mouth felt full of Dean were hard not to slip into. He wasn’t entirely sure where this newfound interest in Dean had come from, but it was there, and he couldn’t shake it away.

He blamed Gabriel.

In a free period, Cas found himself in the library, sitting on the floor between the aisles sketching for the only class he gave a damn about. Art. The teacher encouraged they use their sketchbooks constantly, never to lose the ability to pick up a pencil and draw in everyday situations. Art needs to be a part of your life the teacher drilled into them. It was for Cas. He felt empty without a pencil in his hand.

He wondered if his therapist had thoughts of phallic symbols.

At least he never chewed his pencils, that would have been more worrying.

Cas enjoyed the quiet of back of the library. It seemed others enjoyed it for the privacy. The bookshelf in front of him rattled, quickly followed by high-pitched giggles and a deep voice telling the girl to hush. He recognised the voice.

It was Dean.

“Be quiet sweetheart, don’t wanna get caught.”

“Maybe I do.”

That earned the girl an earnest groan from Dean which stirred something in Cas. He found himself unable to concentrate much on his drawing, his pencil starting to twitch in his hand at the onset of arousal.

Cas knew he should leave but where would the fun in that be? An opportunity to rile up Dean Winchester could never be missed. Also, an opportunity to witness Dean in action, some actual proof to align with Cas’ daydreams would help things along. He had Dean down as slightly aggressive, a bit like himself, rough and tender. A perfect combination in Cas’ mind. He hoped Dean possessed similar attitudes.

The lip smacking on the bookshelf over seemed to continue. He closed his sketchbook, carefully rising up to his feet to lean into the bookshelf opposite him to further assess the situation. Little breathy pants left the girls mouth suggesting Dean was doing something to her. Cas tiptoed down to the end of the shelf to look around to see the boy occupying his mind in the throes of it.

As suspected, Dean had the cheerleader pressed up against the bookcase, her legs slightly parted and skirt riding up. Dean had one of his hands down the front of her panties, the other holding the side of her face as he continued to kiss her. Both of their cheeks slightly flushed, and Cas was pleasantly surprised how in control Dean looked in the situation. A far cry from the state he had been in on Cas’ bed. Memories of that encounter mixed in with his private show had Cas taking a grip of his cock over his jeans to get a hold of himself. His free hand grounding himself onto the bookcase.

The girl turned to putty for Dean, unable to continue to kiss him as her orgasm build from Dean’s hands. She leaned back against the shelf. Dean planted kisses on her neck while he worked her over the edge. He looked confident, sure of himself and his abilities. Cas enjoyed it. Images of Dean taking control of Cas, the slight smile on his lips knowing what he was doing was making it difficult for Cas to concentrate on much else. His cock ached for being trapped in his jeans with nowhere to go.

As the orgasm hit its crescendo something sinister stirred in Cas. The show, although fun to watch was desperately missing his participation in it. He lifted his hand to a book, using his index finger to push it down and make it crash onto the floor. Thud. It caused the other two to separate from each other instantly, fear spreading on their faces as they looked down the aisle to see a book on the ground and Cas staring at them with a smirk on his face.

“Oops.” He said.

“Oh my God,” the girl turned red and with that she fled the scene.

Dean stayed behind. Eyes fixated on Cas’. He was unsure if Dean had even registered the girl had left. Not that Cas particularly cared either way, the slow predatory advancement of Dean towards him was enough to let him know that he was in for something.

Something to soothe his cock he hoped.

The other boy pushed Cas into a bookcase. His hand firm on Cas’ chest holding him there.

“You get off watching people? You’re a sick fuck Novak.” Dean snarled.

“People no,” Cas licked his lips, taking in Dean’s commanding presence. “You though, entirely different matter. I could watch you all day.”

It looked like Dean took that in, his eyes dropped to Cas’ lips as his tongue retreated back and Cas noted the slight pink rising to his ears, bashful. Adorable. Dean must have realised his slip and tightened his jaw, like that was going to save him from what Cas just witnessed.

“I told you if you ever touched me again…”

“I’m not touching you Dean,” Cas interrupted, lifting his hands up as if to surrender. “You’re the one with their hands on me,” he leaned into Dean’s space to whisper, “Not that I’m complaining, but might I suggest you put them somewhere a bit more useful.”

Dean’s head dropped to Cas’ crotch. His erection pressed against his slim fitted jeans. He was actually debating it. It sent a thrill through Cas. Again, the slip lasted a moment, maybe two and then he forcefully shook his head, like the thought disgusted him. What a shame.

“I’m not a fag.”

Cas scoffed. “Says the guy who let me suck him off not three days ago.”

“I didn’t_ let_ you do jack shit.”

He sighed. The conversation was dragging. Dean’s internalised homophobia ruining any fun Cas assumed they might be able to have. Perhaps the Dean he wanted to see would only come out in truly private spaces. Perhaps he just needed reminding how much he had actually wanted what had happened.

“I’m under no illusion you could take me in a fight Dean. You are stronger than I am and yet if my memory serves me you lay there moaning and writhing on my bed while I swallowed your cum drop by drop. Don’t tell me I made you do anything you didn’t want to happen.”

The words quietly left his mouth, floating the short distance for Dean to register. He watched those pretty green eyes flick side to side, as if remembering. He wanted Dean to remember, remember how good it felt, how Cas’ mouth felt around his cock and how the orgasm rose out of him like a demon being exorcised.

“You’re all I can think about Dean,” Cas admitted. “I want to touch you again.”

Dean nodded.

He wanted it too.

Cas wasted no time, hands making quick work of Dean’s belt buckle, top button and zipper opening him up for Cas’ hand to slip under, breathe hitching at the realisation that Dean was still hard. The other boy braced himself on the shelf behind Cas, face buried in his arm as Cas started to jack him off in the library.

His cock felt warm. It was salivating for Cas to have Dean like this again, pliant for him, letting Cas touch him without protest. His hips starting to move with Cas’ hand, like he wanted more but was too afraid to use his words. Cas slightly bewitched at the situation unfolding between them.

If only they had more time.

Cas sped up to the point where he sussed Dean was close to cumming. The boy’s breathe becoming labored and stuttering with each pull on his cock that Cas gave him. When he felt the moment draw to its conclusion, he put Dean’s cock back inside his boxers and palmed him to bring him over.

“Cas, I…” his voice cut off as Cas felt Dean’s boxers dampen. His quiet orgasm spasming his body slightly in front of Cas. Words like _beautiful _and _just like that Dean_ were on the tip of his tongue though he refrained from using them. It had been bad enough he had told Dean he couldn’t stop thinking about him, he didn’t need to let Dean in on anything else remotely vulnerable.

This wasn’t what this was about.

He took his hand back, shoving it into his front pocket jean and waited for Dean to freak out or give him a black eye. This time instead of volatile words, Dean just zipped himself back up and stormed off left in silence.

Readjusting himself Cas went back to his drawings, hand less shaky and a nice buzz tingling his skin, his palm still warm from Dean's cock being in it. Bad boy Dean Winchester turning into soft boy in front of Cas' eyes, another day dream to add to his ever growing repertoire. He wondered how long it would take before Dean started to seek him out. He'd give it a week. 

* * *


	3. Sated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean comes over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appreciate the love and comments. 
> 
> Sorry for the delay, been rather busy x

* * *

Cas managed to get to History class in the nick of time. He refused to spend any longer in classrooms than he had to. His desk in the back corner unoccupied as always.

“Hood Mr Novak.” The teacher pointed out. He reluctantly did what he was told, shoving his hood back off his head. When he lifted his head up, he spotted Dean rapping a pencil on the desk, eyes out the window looking distant. He wasn’t present, not really and when Cas took his seat and pulled out his drawing pad, he too drifted away.

The bell brought him back, peers stuffing books into bags and talking about lunch. The relentless drag of a school day. It was the same, the same faces, the same classes, the same drone of conversation. Who’s going to the next football game and did you see what Bella was wearing and are you even ready for the geometry test later today? It was incessant and did Cas’ head in. He made himself scarce before he decided to throw his desk across the room.

Someone called out his name, presumably the teacher but he was already gone.

* * *

He sat on the bleachers. It tended to a be a quiet spot during lunch, away from the quad and cafeteria. The outside helped, even if the metal seats were numbing his backside. Cas had his hood up, shading in a tree stump with vigor.

“What did that pencil ever do to you?” a familiar voice asked.

Cas raised his head to see Dean standing a few feet away from him, cigarette in hand, jacket collar turned up to keep the cold out. That it was particularly cold, the wind still had a chill though. He looked relax, not like what he appeared earlier.

He must have found a pretty mouth to soothe his anguish, whatever it was. Cas tried not to feel bitter about it.

“What do you want Dean?” Cas replied with snark. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for Dean he wasn’t in the mood for his usual antics this afternoon.

Dean sat down, still remaining a bit of distance. “Someone’s in a mood,” he raised the cigarette to his lips to inhale. Cas locked it away for a later sketch. Something about Dean’s bowed lips were made for charcoals.

“I am,” Cas admitted. “So, say whatever you need to and leave me alone please.”

“Manners? Never expected to hear a please from you,” Dean exhaled into the wind and continued, “Teach stopped me after class, asked how our project was getting along.”

Ah. The project. Cas hadn’t done much with it since Dean had been over. They had time to finish it, not due till the end of semester. Apparently, it was a large chunk of their grade much to Cas’ demise. He took his hood down and slid his pencil behind his ear for safe keeping to think for a moment.

It wasn’t painfully awkward being in silence with Dean, probably helped Dean was pre-occupied with smoking. At least one of them was doing something. Dean had an oddly calming presence when he wasn’t two seconds away from giving Cas a black eye. He was leaning back, one leg outstretched and appeared not to have a care in the world. Cas wondered how true that was though.

The bell rang for lunch to end. They both stood up. Dean threw away his cigarette.

“You can come over again after class. I have to go for a run, so any time after 4 works.” Cas said, about to walk away before Dean stopped him.

“We going to actually do some work or are you going to…you know…” Dean hesitated to say it. Cas turned to see the slightest tinge of pink painted itself onto the tops of his ears. It made Cas smirk. He had given Dean a week to seek him out and he only managed three days.

“Depends on how I’m feeling.” Cas replied casually and left, not wanting to be late for art.

* * *

After his run he was waiting with bated breathe for Dean to arrive. He hadn't even showered, still in his running gear. The endorphins were simmering in him and he needed more. He needed Dean and when the boy finally arrived and opened his bedroom door Cas couldn’t help himself, getting off his chair and walking over to shove him against the door in a loud slam, his hands reached for what they sorely missed.

“Cas,” Dean exhaled as Cas got to work with Dean’s belt buckle. “Cas, wait dammit.”

He paused, eyes lifting up to look at Dean, waiting for him to speak.

“Can I at least sit down? Take my jacket and shoes off?”

Cas stepped out of his way, putting his hand out gesturing Dean to take a seat. Dean moved past him, taking stock of whether to sit on the chair or bed. He opted for the bed, moving to lean against the top of Cas’ bed once his shoes and jacket were off. When Cas felt he had stopped moving he went to straddle Dean’s lap to continue what he had initially planned on doing which was to get Dean’s cock in his hand.

It was like it was all he could think about, completely consumed by this asshole underneath him. He oozed everything Cas hated and yet he couldn’t help himself, drawn to his stupid green eyes and bowed lips, even his jaw called to Cas. How he longed to nip at it. Not that he’d ever admit it aloud.

Dean didn’t stop him, there was no protest in him and if Cas hadn’t known any better there was a slight eagerness. His teeth caught his bottom lip and he watched attentively as Cas unzipped his jeans.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re enjoying this.” He reached into palm at Dean because apparently, he liked to be a tease, liked seeing Dean crumble a little under him.

He watched Dean grip the bedsheets beside him. “Shut your mouth Novak.” He huffed weakly, there was no fight in that response.

“I can gag it, if you want.” He replied.

Dean shut his eyes, biting his lip harder fighting the urge to answer even though they both knew the answer was going to be yes. Cas felt generous and started to move down Dean’s thighs.

“Wait Cas.” Dean stopped him again.

“Oh my god Dean, what?” Cas snapped.

“What’s your end game here?”

“For you to fuck me into the middle of next week,” Cas answered honestly. He smiled when he saw Dean grip the sheets harder. “I’ll take what I can get for now though, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to choke myself on this glorious dick of yours.”

He didn’t wait for a response, just licked a wet strip up Dean’s shaft and lapped at his head. A moan escaped him when he tasted pre-cum already. For someone who got blow jobs weekly Dean sure did look like he was close to cumming already. It only spurred Cas on, knowing Dean was as turned as he was.

Turned on being an understatement, fit to burst more like. His running shorts tightening beyond belief that he started to roll his hips down into his mattress to find any inch of relief. Sucking Dean shouldn’t make him this turned on and yet there he was, moaning around a cock that he wanted so desperately inside of him. The thoughts of being stretched around Dean, the feel of him inside of Cas, how filled he’d feel with Dean buried, it was overwhelming.

He rose up a little, just to get his hand on his own cock, groaning when he took a grip of it.

“Christ, you jacking off Cas?” Dean asked in that broken rasping voice he got whenever Cas was trying to make him cum.

He replied in a hum, sucking Dean down more and more in rhythm with the hand on his own member. The boy under him shuddered and with a thud his head hit the wall. Cas looked up, seeing Dean staring at the ceiling with glistening swollen lips. He was beautiful when he was broken.

With a sore jaw Cas did his worst, taking Dean as far as he could till, he choked, not enough to gag but enough to swallow around the heated slick cock in his mouth. The sensation had Dean writhing, hips lifting up on their own accord eliciting that gargled sound from Cas again.

“Fuck - the sounds you make are so hot.” Dean said.

Cas all but lost it when a hand that wasn’t his touched his shoulder, moving up to touch Cas’ face, pressing a thumb into Cas’ cheek to feel himself in Cas’ mouth. Dean never touched him, ever. Not that they had much to go off of, this being only the third time he’d ever been with Dean like this.

This was different. Dean was different.

He pressed Dean’s cock further into the side of his cheek, giving him a better touch. A deep seated grown came from Dean that had Cas holding his own cock a little tighter, careful of cumming because Dean making sounds like that was not ok, never ok, a voice shouldn’t go that primal. It was unnatural.

Dean was close, he had signs that Cas was learning, pulsating cock, shivering body like he was trying with all he had to hold off, but it was becoming too much. Thankfully Cas thought. He wasn’t about to cum before Dean, he wasn’t about to let Dean know he was losing this just about as much as Dean was. He wouldn’t give Dean the satisfaction.

“Cas, I’m…” Dean broke off when he came, a stillness washed over him like previously, his muscles and bones paralyzing from his orgasm. He filled Cas’ mouth and that was enough for Cas to lose his own cool, cumming into his hand with hot short bursts.

When he had milked Dean enough Cas pulled off and fall back onto bed in a thud to catch his breathe. That slightly salted taste of Dean on his lips made him smile as usual. His afterglow also helping things. His body felt calm, his brain quiet. Only runs had quietened his mind and somehow now Dean had that capability too.

Cas realised he needed to be careful. This could become more complicated than what’s it’s worth. Heaven forbid he got something more than orgasms, like feelings or attachments.

After a moment or two Dean shuffled, distant sounds of elastic bands snapping, and a belt being fastened. The bed moved. Cas turned onto his side to watch Dean. He ran a hand through his sandy hair then pulled at his face like he was still reeling in what had happened, what is happening between them.

“I need a smoke.”

“I need a shower.” Cas got off the bed, grabbing his towel and making it to the door.

“Then we’ll do the project?” Dean questioned.

Cas nodded. “Yeah.”

* * *

He was quick and when he got back Dean was at his desk, pulling up that video they never managed to get around to finishing on his laptop. The packet of smokes rested on the table beside him along with his zippo, silver with a W engraved into it. Cas ran his finger over it.

“Was my Dad’s.”

“Was?”

“Died a while back.”

Cas didn’t go down that road. He got dressed behind Dean and Dean didn’t sneak a look. Unfortunately. Cas lay down on his bed.

“You want to watch it on the bed?” he asked.

Dean twirled around in the chair, smiling in that shit eating grin he usually sported when he was being obnoxious or quick witted. “You going to let us get to the end this time?”

He didn’t disappoint.

“I am capable of keeping my hands to myself Dean,” he replied with a slight smile, rather enjoying Dean’s newfound ease on the subject. “You’ve sated me enough, for now.”

The other boy set it up, laptop on the chair and moved to lie beside Cas on the bed. He kept his distance, remembering that Cas wasn’t a fan of smoke. That didn’t stop Cas from closing the gap, letting their sides touch from shoulders to thigh. Dean didn’t object, just pressed play.

They got to the end this time.

Gabriel brought them up dinner. It was all rather civil, friendly even and when Dean left around 8pm Cas couldn't help notice how empty his room felt. 

* * *


	4. Delicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean have lunch.

* * *

A week proved to be Cas’ breaking point when it came to Dean Winchester. Day 5 he was itching for a taste of stale smoke, leather and whatever body wash Dean dosed himself in. His palms ached, not even a pencil could satisfy them, they only wanted one thing. Him.

He hadn’t been at school. Cas had been keeping an eye out for him unless Dean was keeping himself hidden from Cas. That would be odd though, considering the last time they spent time together it had almost been amicable. Dean had even managed to make Cas chuckle which seemed to only be adding to the reasons why Cas wanted to see the boy again.

Gabriel had warned him about this.

_“Feelings don’t end well for us baby bro.”_

It appeared to have been a warning too late for Cas. His only hope was that once he got Dean how he wanted him, his appetite would diminish, and he could move on. One fuck and he’d get bored. He always got bored. People got boring, fucking the same people even more so and why would Dean be any different?

A face inside a diner on his walk to the local art store on a Saturday afternoon stopped him in his tracks. Cas wore his hood, only looking up because someone had almost run into him, too busy on their phone not paying attention. Some sharp remark was on his tongue when he saw those pretty green eyes staring at him.

Dean cocked his head to the side, almost imitating Cas’ no doubt. He should keep walking, he knew he should keep walking and yet his legs refused to move, stuck on the pavement. Whoever Dean was with noticed him staring and whipped his head around. It caught Cas’ eye. He was met with a younger face, there were some similarities to Dean. He had to be a family member. His smile was bright, innocent and he waved at Cas with enthusiasm.

Had to be a distant family member.

It looked like heated words were exchanged between the two and that was enough to get Cas moving. Whatever he had interrupted he didn’t mean to, though seeing Dean outside of school was rare, considering he had been away all week. There was relief Dean at least still existed on this plain. He was past the diner, about the turn left when Dean called out to him.

“Novak!”

Cas turned his head around, pulling his hood down to see Dean standing half in and half out of the diner, hand on the door looking about as pained as Cas felt right now. Why was he talking to Cas? Why was he drawing attention on a busy street? It unnerved him.

He waited for Dean to speak, which he did once he was finished scratching at his jaw and pulling at the strands of his hair. “You hungry?”

Cas shrugged. Dean gestured him to come closer, but he didn’t budge.

“Food aint out here Cas.” Dean said with attitude, a slight lift of his lips.

That earned him an eye roll. “I’ll be ten minutes.” Cas called out.

“I’ll order you a burger.” 

He made a point to be quick, trying not to think too hard about why that was.

* * *

Turned out the younger boy was Dean’s little brother, Sam, who still managed to burn bright in comparison to his older brother. Cas figured eventually his bullish attitude was down to hiding something darker rather than being an actual obtuse douchebag. Where Cas sought solitude, Dean sought distraction by attention, popularity and making a general ass of himself in Cas’ opinion. Everyone had their ways of coping he guessed.

Cas somewhat regretted agreeing to this. It appeared Dean did too. He was closed off, more than usual. Any time Sam tried to make conversation he glared sourly at his brother. He was wound up about something, shoulders tight and jaw set. He ate his burger like it tasted like cardboard and he wanted it over with already.

He could fix this. He could untense Dean, make him feel better, make them both feel better. A week without Dean and Cas was fit to implode, he ran himself into the ground on more than one occasion trying to chase that calmness in his mind that Dean gave him. He needed to fix them.

It didn’t take long before a window of opportunity presented itself to him.

“I’m going for a leak.” Dean announced, wiping his mouth with his napkin and leaving.

The diner had an arcade section. He fished out a bunch of coins and handed them to Sam who made a face like it was Christmas day.

“You for real?” he sounded so elated that if Cas had a heart, he’d almost feel bad about the fact he just wanted to keep Sam busy for ten or so minutes while he went in search of his older brother.

“Have fun.” Cas said and watched Sam run over to a pinball machine before he got up from the booth making a beeline for the bathroom, hoping he’d be able to have some fun of his own.

* * *

The good thing about gender neutral bathrooms was that each bathroom was self-contained making this all the easier. He knocked, no, banged on the only locked bathroom till Dean opened it with rage coating his face till he saw it was Cas. He must have seen the mischievous look on Cas’ face as his eyes widened.

“No,” Dean shook his head, walking out, “No, not a chance Cas, this is not happening.”

Cas shoved his way inside, hands on Dean’s chest to push him back because yes, this was happening. It needed to happen.

Dean resisted, using his strength to stand his ground. “No Cas, I’m serious.”

“So am I.” He tried to push again. This time Dean wrapped a hand around Cas wrist, hard.

“Sam is right outside!” Dean hissed.

“I gave him a bunch of quarters.” Cas replied, staring at how tight Dean had his wrist, almost white knuckling it, losing some circulation in it. He knew Dean was strong, but this level was unexpected. “You’re strong.”

Dean scoffed. “You say that like you’re surprised.”

His strength sent a rush through Cas. He’d be able to hold Cas down, keep him down, even if Cas put him a bit of a fight. That would be everything but for now he needed to just get his hands on him, make him cum, make whatever was going on in him go away. He pressed against Dean’s chest again and this time Dean went. There was no resistance which made Cas realise this was the right idea to have.

He locked the bathroom door and crowded Dean up against the sink. They didn’t have long, enough to rub or suck one out, enough to unravel Dean’s shoulders and quieten Cas’ mind. What they both needed. They had enough time for that.

His hands lifted up Dean’s henley to get at his familiar belt buckle, old, slightly frayed, two holes over used in comparison to the rest. Dean stayed quiet, hands holding onto the sink to balance himself, eyes glued on Cas’ quick hands. He liked that Dean watched now, liked that Dean was slowly letting himself enjoy this.

Sadly, it would be over eventually, once Dean fucked him. Thoughts for later. He reached inside Dean’s boxers, taking out his half hard cock, let it grow in his hand then started to jack him off with a steady pace. Dean’s choked back groans made his smile grow.

“Good?”

“It’s always good.” Dean admitted, a little breathless. His eyes widened at his admittance, he opened his mouth like he was about to back track when Cas pressed his thumb into the slit of Dean’s cock and all that came out was a desperate whine.

“High praise coming from you,” Cas spoke casually, like he wasn’t fazed at all when in fact his trousers were starting to get uncomfortable, “How many hand jobs do you even get a week? Four? Five?”

“Fuck you.” Dean bit out.

Cas hummed, stepping that bit closer. “Don’t tease me Dean,” he planted his feet on either side of one of Dean’s thighs, pressing in to let his erection rest on Dean’s leg, “You know I want you to.”

He let go to slick his hand up, locking eyes with Dean who watched attentively as he ran his tongue over his palm. Dean’s own tongue snuck out, coating his dried lip. He liked Dean’s tongue, his lips, bowed and inviting. They’d fit nicely around any part of Cas’ body though persuading Dean into that might take more work than it’s worth.

Cas went back to Dean’s cock, quickening the pace, conscious of the time. The more he stroked Dean, the more his own erection was getting in the way. He found himself swaying his hips on Dean’s thigh, getting some kind of friction that made his head spin a little. Dean moved one of his hands to Cas’ waist, gripping it tight, stopping Cas from moving.

“Let me.” He growled.

It turned out Dean wasn’t trying to stop him, he was trying to get Cas to move closer, jut his leg out more for Cas to get even closer. This was good, really good. Cas rolled his hips and this time a moan rifted its way into the short space between them.

Dean huffed. He leaned his head back to hit the mirror above the sink. “Fuck, I’m close.”

_Me too. _Cas thought, working his hands and hips in unison to bring them over the edge. The bathroom slowly fading away till it was just him and Dean, grinding and panting and both of them chewing at their lips in fear of saying things neither of them want to say aloud.

With his hand still dug into Cas’ hip it was Cas who came first, too focused on the sheer strength and how he hoped there would be circular marks on him for days after this. Dean followed after, stilling and freezing in the moment with his mouth in a perfect o shape that Cas found difficult to look at.

People’s orgasms faces shouldn’t look that delicate. They shouldn’t. Cas shouldn’t be reacting to the ways he was either. It wasn’t like him. This wasn’t like him. He was going into unchartered territory and it scared him. He needed this to be over. He needed to get what he wanted and get out before Cas found himself drawing heart eyes and etching their names into desks at school.

Cas went cold then, he stepped back from Dean and readjusted himself, taking off his hoodie to wrap around his waist to hide the wet patch from the public. Dean didn’t move, head hanging low and trying to catch his breath back. His shoulders looked relaxed. 

“See you Monday,” Cas said walking out, he paused, hand still on the door and looked down at the ground to speak, “The sooner you fuck me, the sooner I’ll leave you alone Dean, remember that.” And with that he left Dean there with his limp cock still out.

* * *

Sunday night his phone vibrated on his desk. He put down the piece of charcoal to read it.

**ive never fucked a dude a before**

**Am I supposed to be surprised by that?**

**what if im no good…**

**You will be**

**you sound so sure**

**Its not that different to fucking a girl...something you’ve done more times than you can count I’m assuming**

**you really think im some whore dont you**

**Am I wrong?**

**i do this and youll really leave me alone**

**Yes **

He had to leave him alone. It was the only way he’d make it out of this with whatever shards he still had of himself left to salvage.

**ok…ill do it**

Cas put his phone down and went back to shading in a perfect o shape mouth. 

* * *


	5. Memorise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They fuck.

* * *

Dean saddled up beside his locker the following week, he held the strap of his bag tight on his shoulder.

“Today, after school.” He said with conviction. Cas wondered how long it took him to come up to him, how many times he replied the moment in his head till he got the courage to come up to Cas to inform him he’d fuck him today.

Cas closed his locker shut, eyes meeting Dean’s briefly to give his response. “After my run.”

Dean rolled his eyes, whatever anxiety he had now gone like _of course_ after Cas’ run, he wasn’t an idiot and Cas mimicked the gesture, thumping his shoulder into Dean’s as he walked past him onwards to class.

Dean bad boy Winchester was going to fuck him. Finally. 

* * *

He told Gabriel to make himself scarce when he got back. Gabriel didn’t need to be told twice, already grabbing the keys to his car and teasing Cas to not do anything he wouldn’t which if he really thought about it wasn’t much. He went for his run, ran till his lungs burned and then ran some more, throwing up just shy of his back garden and he tried not to think too hard as to why he did that. His shower was cold, but he needed it to be and when he got back to his bedroom Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed playing with his hands, jacket and shoes already taken off.

“Dean.” Cas said with a slight surprise.

“You left your door open.” Dean replied, eyes fixated on the ground.

He was nervous. How adorable.

Cas dropped his towel, not needing it now and he saw how Dean’s eyes darted to it and the pink on the tops of his ears got brighter and Cas shoved away thoughts of pastel colours because he was going to be done with Dean once this was over. A fuck and he’d be sated. A fuck and his interest would be peaked, and he could finally move on from Dean and his eyes that were moving up Cas’ naked body and his mouth that was starting to open in that o that Cas had spent far too much time drawing.

He stepped into Dean’s space and slipped his hands under Dean’s shirt, peeling it back off his shoulders and Dean took the message reaching back to take over stripping himself. Cas went to the other side of his bed to get his lube and tear off a condom from the strip.

Once retrieved he lay down on the bed. Dean now topless with his back to him and Cas could make out the freckles that scattered across the tops of his shoulders and down his arms. He wet his lips at the sight. His hand twitched like it wanted to reach out but that would mean something Cas didn’t want it to mean so he diverted his hand to the lube, coating three of his fingers to open himself up.

He lay back, nestling into his pillow and lifted one of his knees up to plant it on the bed. In the corner of his eye he could just about make out Dean looking over his shoulder then moving it back, shaking it with vigor and standing up to undo his jeans. Cas turned slightly, letting himself see Dean push his jeans and boxers down in one go and Cas bit back a moan as he slid in the first finger. The combination of sight and touch had his cock hardening on his stomach.

Dean heard it though, snapping his head around to see the sight before him. Cas on his back with one finger making its way inside his hole. He saw the bob of his Adam’s apple and how his green eyes widened.

“You can watch,” Cas said, slightly hissing as he pushed in some more, “if you want.”

He toyed with himself using his thumb, letting it ghost around his rim and he wasn’t entirely sure who’s benefit it was for because Dean’s eyes were sort of fixated on Cas’ hand and ass even as he made his way onto the bed to kneel between Cas’ spread legs.

Dean was hard. He was enjoying it, enjoying watching Cas open himself up.

Cas added another, growing impatient. He arched into it, throwing his head back at the building sensation inside of him. Since his little games with Dean he hadn’t been interested in anyone else, hadn’t gotten fucked in weeks and he needed it. He pressed in further, hooking his two fingers and then scissoring them, a groan erupted from his chest.

The weight in the bed shifted, his hips dipped and then he felt something unknown touch lightly against his rim, like a whisper. He opened his eyes to see Dean’s arm in front of him, his hand between his legs, his finger touching Cas’ ass alongside Cas’ own. His chest heaved.

Dean looked up at him, silently asking permission.

Cas nodded. When Dean pressed in, he joined Cas’ slicked fingers and Cas saw stars behind his closed eyelids. His head throwing back again, gasping for air that was proving difficult to find, even more difficult when he felt Dean’s other hand push his leg back to his chest, spreading himself even more.

“Christ Cas, look at you.” Dean breathed, like in awe of what he was seeing.

He wanted to tell Dean to shut up, but he couldn’t, words weren’t forming, only moans. He felt exposed, raw, vulnerable in this position and he couldn’t even look at Dean because if he did, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d make it.

It was becoming out of hand. This was becoming something more than a fuck and this wasn’t part of the plan. Dean wasn’t supposed to be opening him up, wasn’t supposed to be staring at Cas like he’s something, something more than the asshole who pushed his way into his life and was soon to be leaving it.

“Enough Dean,” Cas panted, pulling his fingers out. “I’m ready.”

Dean curled his lone finger once more, now alone in Cas’ hole like he wasn’t ready and Cas whined, pulling his body away from Dean’s finger that was making itself at home in Cas. He wasn’t going to be at home in Cas. This wasn’t going to become anything. He promised Dean he’d leave him alone once he fucked Cas and he was going to keep his word.

He turned over onto his hands and knees, tossing the condom beside him to Dean.

“Fuck me already.” He said, bracing himself for Dean.

He could hear Dean mumble something along the lines of _bossy _and Cas couldn’t help but smirk into his arm, but Dean was getting a move on. The sound of the wrapper tearing brought a hidden smile to his face. He was safe here between his arms. Here Dean didn’t have to see how much Cas wanted this.

Then nothing happened. Nothing till Dean sighed audibly and commented, “I can’t do this.”

Great.

Cas turned himself around to look at Dean. “We had a deal. You fuck me, I leave you alone.”

“I know, it’s not that, it’s just,” Dean paused again, running a hand through his hair, “I can’t do it like this, from behind I mean.”

“Why?” He cocked his head to the side confused.

It looked like Dean was going to explain, when his face turned to steel, and he took Cas’ legs in his hands and pulled him into him. Cas yelped at the surprise of strength, his back hitting the bed under him and now Dean hovered over him, nowhere to hide.

“You wanted _me_ to fuck you right?” Dean asked, grabbing a pillow and manhandling Cas again, getting his hips up to shove a pillow under him and Cas didn’t do anything to object, more stunned than anything at Dean’s newfound confidence.

“Right?” Dean asked again, looking for an answer.

Cas nodded, spreading his legs wider to show Dean how right he was. Dean pushed Cas’ legs out with his thighs, then he felt the blunt head of Dean’s cock touch his readied hole. They both shuddered at the contact.

“Well,” Dean gulped, his voice slightly cracking, confidence fading, something more vulnerable growing, “Let me do it my way, ok?”

“Ok.” Cas replied softly, his own vulnerability seeping through much to his demise.

When Dean pressed in Cas forced his hands to grip the bedsheets even though they sorely wanted to grip onto Dean’s shoulder because he needed to ground himself to something if he was going to be able to survive this. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do much except fist the sheets and hold on.

Dean tried to go in with some sort of speed then realised Cas wasn’t built like a girl and he slowed his pace down, edging his way in bit by bit with shallowed breathes that fluttered Cas’ eyelashes till he bottomed out then paused.

Full, so full of Dean and he wasn’t moving, and it was killing Cas to be this filled, like he couldn’t breathe till Dean did something, anything. His lungs burned and his body ached for stimulation. He whined, shifting a little because he needed Dean to move, he needed him to move _now_.

“Move!” Cas tried to bark but came out more like a plea.

“You’re like a fucking vice,” Dean panted above him. “So fucking tight, like – _fuck_.”

He wasn’t allowed to talk. A fuck, this was supposed to be a fuck. This was turning into something else, something entirely out of Cas’ comfort zone. He was actually shaking.

“Dean, if you don’t fucking move I swear…”

That seemed to either spark something good in Dean or piss him off, either way he did, moving back out and snapping forward with speed. Cas knew this, this he could work with. He arched to meet the thrust that stung a little too much, just short of painful and just enough pleasure. His glistened chest rose up to touch Dean’s, heat on heat and the necklace Dean wore pressed into his sternum. The cold shook Cas.

Lost in the moment he released a hand, hooked his finger into the string to tug Dean closer. Dean fell onto his elbows, but he didn’t stop though, not once, kept going with those vicious thrusts, more and more like he was trying to push Cas through the mattress and Cas loved every moment of it. A litany of sounds from both of them filled the room, like they were trying to out moan each other or something, just rolls of filthy chords that Cas was failing miserably at keeping under wraps.

His other hand released as his orgasm built inside of him. He grabbed a handful of Dean’s hair, soft just as he suspected. Dean did too, tugged on Cas’ black mess and Cas cursed aloud. He was becoming a lost cause. 

_"Dean." _He whined, tugging again. 

All Dean could do was nod, like he knew and that made it even worse, or better he wasn’t sure, being able to differentiate that was becoming impossible. He didn’t want this to end, this moment, whatever this was between them. He wanted Dean, wanted him in his bed, at school, in the back of Dean’s car. The feelings he tried to shove away emerged and took hold as Dean fucked him.

“I’m close Dean.” He said mixed with another sinful moan because Dean found that sweet spot and Cas started to see stars behind his eyes.

“Yes,” Dean leaned up on his palms, head dropping to between them, “I wanna see you cum Cas,” he admitted, voice wrecked, “Been wanting to see you cum for freaking weeks. Cum for me, please Cas.”

And that was it, those words, the feeling of Dean buried in his ass had Cas cumming. Hot spurts of white coated their stomachs and then he felt Dean start to stutter, muttering nonsense as he became erratic with his own equally earth-shattering orgasm. He was beautiful and it was over, and Cas had to put his hand over his own mouth because he didn’t trust himself not to seal his lips around that perfect o shape.

Dean caught his breath for a second then pulled out, collapsing onto the bed beside Cas. They both stared up at the ceiling, reeling in what happened. One fuck and he’d leave. That was what he promised but his body already felt lost without Dean being near it, on top of it, inside of it. He ran his hands over his face, got up to sit at the edge of the bed.

“Cas…” Dean sounded small.

He turned around to look at the boy on his bed. His messed hair, pink cheeks and flushed chest. Cas tried to memorise it one last time.

“Yes Dean?”

Dean couldn’t even look at Cas as he spoke, “Don’t leave me alone man.”

Something warm bloomed inside of Cas. He tried not to fight it for now and lay back down beside Dean, a little closer this time.

“I won’t.”

* * *


	6. Timestamps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each section a little glimpse into Dean and Cas'... whatever they are ;) 
> 
> More will follow. 
> 
> Enjoy x
> 
> Warning : Reference to self harm

* * *

The fourth time they have sex Cas rides Dean for all he’s worth, hands scrambling for purchase on Dean’s sweated shoulder blades and his face buried in the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean’s matching every thrust, one hand to steady himself on the bed, the other wrapped around Cas and he’s spewing a litany of curses that are getting more incoherent the harder Cas goes.

They’re hooked, completely and utterly insatiable for the other.

Dean comes first, spilling into Cas and then he’s pushing Cas back. He goes, falling back into his comforter. He’s unsure what’s happening till Dean bends over and takes him in his mouth. It doesn’t take long for Cas to come after that, those lips, he knew those lips were made for this and they are. Plush and warm and eager. Some of his come falls from Dean’s mouth onto his stomach and that’s ok because Dean isn’t used to it.

He gathers up a bit and laps at it, which Dean just stares at for a moment with heavy eyes before shaking his head and pushing Cas’ body off of him. He reaches for a pair of boxers, then his smokes and climbs up on Cas’ dresser to open the window and stays there.

“Dean.” Cas warns half-heartedly. He’s too fucked to really put up a fight.

Dean doesn’t respond, just lights his cigarette and keeps it out the window. Cas turns over to look at him, calm, peaceful, blowing smoke out the window into the wind. Its turning dark, the sun setting behind the trees of his back garden. The light rays dance on Dean’s almost bare body.

He walks over to his desk, still naked and grabs a stick of charcoal and his pad. He starts to draw the outline of Dean’s hand. It’s holding the cigarette delicately. Almost everything about Dean is delicate Cas realises, if anyone bothered to look hard enough.

“You drawing me like one of your French girls?” Dean jokes. Cas actually knows that reference for once.

He hums a response, eyes darting between Dean and paper. He notices Dean makes a point to stay more still now he’s aware Cas is drawing him. Its endearing.

When he gets to drawing Dean’s boxers, he sees that Dean is actually wearing Cas’. He smiles to himself, enjoying the slow warmth that realisation creates in him. Once Dean finishes his couple of cigarettes, he’s ready to go again, taking Cas’ pad from his hands and dragging him back to bed.

Cas goes, always.

* * *

An evening when he gets back from his run, he finds Dean staring at his charcoal pad. Gabriel hadn’t warned him that Dean was there, presumably on purpose. Dean’s leaning over his desk, fingers lightly touching the sketches. Cas goes to reach for it, wanting to take it away from him when Dean stops him.

“Not a chance buddy.” Dean says. He shoves Cas away with ease, using his strength that Cas equally loves and hates. Hating at this present moment.

“It’s private.” Cas sits on the edge of his bed, crossing his arms in a huff. “Meaning its none of your business.”

“You draw me, I think that makes it my business.” Dean takes the pad and sits down beside Cas. He always sits too close, almost half on top of Cas, not that he minds. Even covered in sweat and rainwater Dean wants to be close to him.

He’s on a sketch Cas had done some time ago. Dean sitting on the bleacher, outstretched, staring off into a memory. His leather jacket with the collar turned up, hiding part of his face from Cas. Behind him, almost like a halo is the W in the same design as on his zippo. His Father’s one.

“Can I have it?” Dean asks quietly, finger skating around the W.

Cas nods, taking the pad and tearing it out for Dean to have. Dean holds it for some time, just looking at it and Cas isn’t sure why that is, but he doesn’t press it. He goes for a shower to leave Dean alone with his thoughts, his eyes similar to those in the drawing he did.

When he gets back Dean tells him that his Dad was his world and that his leather jacket, his zippo and car are the only things he has of his anymore. That his Dad wrapped Dean and his little brother in his jacket while their house burnt down and ran back in to get their Mother, neither of them came out. Cas listens then finds another pencil pad he has, finding a sketch of Dean and his brother leaning against the car, laughing at each other. 

Dean’s eyes brighten up more than Cas has seen ever before. He makes a point after that to show Dean any new drawings he does of him just in case he wants to keep them too.

* * *

Dean tries to give Cas a hand job. He’s kneeling in front of him, Cas lying back on the bed and keeping quiet, letting Dean figure it out. He’s hard, always hard when Dean has his hands on him but it’s not exactly the best he’s ever had.

“Fuck!” Dean curses, hands lifting up into the air. “Why is this so hard? I have one of these.”

Cas gets up on his elbows and sees the frustration on Dean’s face. Its adorable. Dean’s staring at his dick like its offending him for even existing. He turns onto his side and pats the space behind him, signally Dean to follow.

The bed moves and Dean lines himself up behind Cas. Dean runs hotter than Cas, creating a cascade of goosebumps over him. He takes Dean’s hand, bringing it around to his front, letting Dean figure out the rest by taking a hold of his cock again.

“Not just a pretty face.” Dean hums behind Cas then gets to work on his cock with more ease than previously. He can work with this angle. He knows this.

Cas comes with his mouth biting into the pillow because turns out that’s the best he’s ever had.

* * *

Dean puts it upon himself to figure out a pet name for Cas because well, Cas isn’t entirely sure the reason why, but Dean tries none the less. They’re in bed, post orgasms and Cas is smearing Dean’s cum on his stomach, making patterns and enjoying his afterglow while Dean rambles on above him.

“Sweetheart? What about sweetheart?” Dean asks. He has his hand behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. His chest is rising and falling steadily, a far cry from his bated breathes moments prior.

“No.” Cas rejects instantly.

“What about prince?” Dean looks down at Cas. “Girls like it when I call them princess.”

He knows it’s a jab, but he reacts none the less, taking a hold of Dean’s jaw and pinching it.

“Don’t treat me like those girls,” he says sharply, “I’m not like them.”

Dean pulls Cas’ hand off of him, flipping them with ease so Cas is underneath him. He would fight but he knows it’s no use. Dean weighs him down and keeps him there. This time Dean takes Cas’ jaw, pulling him to look at him in the eye.

“You’re not like anyone Cas.” Dean says and means it. He lessens up the grip of Cas’ jaw, moves his hand to run through Cas’ hair softly. It’s a sweet gesture and Cas hates that he likes it.

He knows a name. Its whether he wants to say it or not. Dean just looks and waits, knowing Cas is debating the words on the tip of his tongue.

“Angel,” Cas whispers eventually, eyes not able to meet Dean’s, “I’m named after an angel.”

Dean drops his head to Cas, letting their foreheads touch. “Angel it is.”

* * *

Eventually Dean notices the way Cas’ skin bumps at certain points on his thighs. They’re faint but they’re there. On closer inspection he sees the way the skin looks brighter than the other, how the hairs on his legs have stopped growing there. He runs his thumb over the thin lines.

“No.” Cas protests.

Dean looks up from where he’s nestled between Cas’ knees.

He sees Cas strung out on the bed, hands over his face hiding himself from Dean. His chest is flush, and his cock is leaking, and he wants to shove Dean’s hands away from those parts of him but for some unknown reason he doesn’t.

Dean skates his fingers over the scars, each one he gives equal attention. One after the other, line after line he touches them like he’s witnessing them, like he’s acknowledging their existence and Cas eyes start to well under his hands.

He’s not used to it. His cheeks are wet. The softness is too much for him.

His body shudders when he feels Dean’s lips press against them next. The same as before, each one he touches and then he wraps his mouth around Cas’ cock and blows him.

Dean holds him that bit tighter after it.

They don’t talk about it.

* * *

He never pictured himself as the jealous time, then again, he never cared enough about anyone to really be in a position to fear losing someone. It catches him off guard. He’s walking to class and spies Dean talking to some girl. She’s playing with a strand of her hair and pushing her chest out in her too tight top sparkling her mascara laden eyes at Dean. When he laughs, he sounds like he means it, loud and joyous and Cas can’t stand it.

It makes Cas’ stomach turn, twists in a knot that leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He’s staring, no, glaring and he knows he is. Feelings take over and as he passes, he keeps his head down, hood covered not wanting Dean to see him like this. He hates this foreign sensation in him, hates that it’s taking root in him.

He doesn’t go to the bleachers for lunch because he knows Dean will be there waiting for him deciding instead to hang out in the art room where its safe and he can fester in this sea of green without anyone seeing. He breaks his pencil more times than he can count.

When the bell rings he gathers up his stuff, makes his way out and Dean is outside waiting for him. Of course, he is. He’s leaning against the wall, one foot planted against it and his arms crossed over his chest.

“What did I do?” he asks, like he doesn’t even know. Cas doesn’t reply, just starts to walk down the hall but is stopped by Dean’s strong grip. He pushes Cas into the wall and Cas starts to fight against it. It’s no use. “Tell me.” Dean insists.

“You don’t act like that around me.” Cas says quietly, like he’s so ashamed to even be having this thought because he is. He doesn’t so caring. He doesn’t do jealousy.

He hears Dean exhale, feels him back up enough to create space between them. Cas looks up and sees Dean’s face register what he’s saying. His eyes soften but its jaw is set, like he’s angry about something, just not at Cas. It doesn’t settle the bitterness in him.

Dean takes in their surroundings. It’s not private. He brings Cas back into the art room, closes the door behind him and then wraps his arms around Cas in a tight embrace.

“There’s no one else angel,” He whispers into his hair, “No one.”

Cas lets out a little whine after hearing those words, his body sags into Dean’s and he hugs him back. The bitterness disappears.

* * *

Cas gets into the habit of straddling Dean when he’s in a fowl mood. He doesn’t care where they are, who’s around or what’s happening. All he wants is to be wrapped around Dean and he finds himself doing it on the bleachers one lunch time.

Dean’s already sitting there, eyes fixed on Cas as he walks up the steps to meet him. He plants his feet on either side and sinks to Dean’s lap, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck and hiding himself from the world.

He feels Dean chuckle, it vibrates his chest. Arms come around and pull Cas closer, till their chest to chest and there’s no space between them just like Cas wants it, needs it. He breathes in Dean’s scent, leather and stale smoke and pine because that’s his shower gel and Dean showered in Cas’ this morning. It smells like home. His new home.

It’s not enough so he hooks his legs around Dean too.

“You’re like a koala bear.” Dean notes.

Cas hums and squeezes tight around Dean, uncaring.

It earns him another chuckle. “Such a freaking koala bear.”

* * *

It doesn’t take long for Dean to realise that Cas likes it when he uses his strength to hold him down. He lets out little yelps, his eyes go big, his mouth slack, he knows these signs are telling Dean he likes it and Dean picks up on it.

Dean waits for him after his run. He’s sitting on Cas’ bed, already stripped down to his boxers and he has this look on his face that tells Cas he’s up to something and Cas_ likes _it.

He strips out of his running gear, leaving himself bare and climbs up onto the bed when Dean stops him before he can straddle Dean’s legs. His hand firm on Cas’ chest.

“Turn around.” He says with a smile.

Cas listens, sitting in the space between Dean’s spread legs.

“Sit on your hands.”

“What?” he turns his head around and Dean’s face is there, shuffling forward to close the space between them.

Dean takes his hands, bringing them down. “Trust me.”

With a sigh, Cas obeys, sitting on his ends and before he can really register what is happening, Dean’s got his legs over Cas’ legs, locking him in place. His arms and legs completely restrained by Dean.

“Can you move?” he asks. Cas tries. He can buts its difficult, more of a wriggle than actually being able to get himself out of Dean’s restrain. “Good.”

His body rushes with more heat than his run gave him from the comment. Dean runs his hands over Cas’ bare chest, his head rests on Cas’ shoulder, watching as Cas’ cock starts to harden with his light touches.

It kills Cas. “_Dean_.” He pleas, trying and failing to arch his body which only makes things hotter. His cock leaking and Dean hasn’t even touched him yet, not really.

Dean just hushes him, clearly in no rush and Cas regrets ever letting Dean Winchester into his life because he’s a tyrant and Cas doesn’t do small and precious, he doesn’t but then Dean licks the shell of his ear and he whispers, “Be good for me angel.”

Cas whines, small and precious and all bets are off. 

* * *


	7. Time Stamps 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little lock down day dreams, a Dean POV included, enjoy x

* * *

One lazy morning Dean wakes Cas up with a roaming hand. Ghost like touches caress his exposed skin. The bedsheet is pushed down to their waists. He keeps his eyes closed, enjoying the moment. He wonders if Dean knows he’s awake, wonders if Dean has done this at other times while Cas slumbers beside him. The thought sparks a low warmth in the pit of stomach.

Dean’s fingers brush over his ribcage, a sensitive spot and Cas arches away with a whine.

“Tickles.” He protests pathetically, sleep still seeping from his bones.

The touches don’t stop though, still lazy, still aimless, taking in each part of skin that Dean can reach. Eventually Dean’s hand moves around to Cas’s stomach. He tugs, makes Cas move from his side to his back. Dean comes into view, messy hair and drowsy green eyes.

He’s so beautiful in the mornings. No barriers, no walls are up yet, just pure Dean who indulges in his wants. His hand moves up the center of Cas’ body. Fingers trace collarbones and tendons of his neck. So tactile.

Cas returns it, soft touches going up Dean’s freckled arms, broad shoulder and shell of his ear. He likes his ear being touched, makes him close his eyes and revel in it. His tongue peaks out to coat his bottom lip. Its captivating in the morning glow.

“Will you kiss me?” Cas whispers, like he’s afraid Dean will say no. They’ve done so much to each other, with each other and yet this act has escaped them till now.

“You’re asking me?” Dean replies with the same amount of quietness. He cocks his head to the side, like he isn’t sure Cas meant it like a question.

He mulls over Dean’s question. Yes, he’s asking for this. All he does is take from Dean and Dean allows it. His thumb moves to Dean’s mouth, runs the pad of it under his bottom lip. He can see it drying. He takes so much but for this he wants Dean to want it too. Not to want it after it happens, or during it, he wants Dean to want it before it even begins.

Are his walls down enough for him to consider it?

“Cas.” Dean prompts.

Cas nods. “Yes, I’m asking you. Will you kiss me Dean?”

It’s a breath or two before Dean dips his head. His eyes flit between Cas’ and his mouth. Its slow. His hand cups Cas’ face to hold him steady. When his eyes close, Cas’ follow. Their first touch is quiet. Dean slots his lip between Cas’ and presses gently. The spark of warmth from earlier blazes within him.

When Dean pulls back Cas chases him.

Their second kiss isn’t as quiet.

* * *

Dean POV.

Their venomous when they’re arguing. It goes from 0-100 lightning fast. There is no middle for them. It’s all or nothing. Cas shouts at Dean with all he has, and Dean gives as much as he gets.

The Impala is parked on a dirt track off the road. He can’t drive when he’s angry and he’s angry. His hands grip right onto the steering wheel to ground him but it’s no use. Cas keeps going and going.

“You are so pig headed!” Cas yells.

Dean snaps his head to look at Cas beside him. “Me?!”

The blue-eyed boy nods with fury, pointing at Dean for added emphasis. “Yes, you Dean! Who else would I be talking about?”

“I think that’s a bit rich coming from you.” He snarls.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re the most stubborn son of a bitch I know!”

That does it for Cas. He pulls at his hair in frustration then storms out of the car, slamming the door so hard it vibrates the whole car. Dean follows, not letting him get away that easily from this.

“Don’t you walk away from me Cas!”

Cas refuses to stop, walking into the woods and his head not turning back to look at Dean.

Dean kicks the ground, churning up dirt that rest on his boots. He groans into his hands then screams into the air because there is not much else, he can do. This boy. This boy would be the end of him one day, he’s sure of it.

He could just leave Cas in there. They’re at least twenty miles from their homes. He could just walk to his car, get in and drive off. That’ll show Cas. To hell with Cas and everything about him.

Dean starts to walk towards his car, stomping his feet as he goes. His keys weigh heavy in his hands and by the time he turns on the ignition the guilt has set in.

“God dammit.” He huffs half-heartedly and trails into the woods after Cas.

He finds him sitting on a fallen trunk, hunched over himself, arms wrapped around his knees. He looks small and broken. It aches Dean seeing him like that, seeing that he made Cas like that. The anger drains from him.

“Cas,” he broaches carefully, rounding the tree and getting down on the ground to kneel in front of Cas, “Look man, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have…”

Cas pushes him back. He falls onto the foliage. Its soft, slightly damp. Cas straddles him.

“Cas! What the…”

He’s cut off by Cas’ mouth. It’s sharp and angry, no desperate. It’s all teeth and breath and he’s clinging onto Dean like he’s afraid he’ll disappear underneath him. It’s panic that he’s fucked up big time and Dean will leave him. Dean knows this kiss.

Like he'd ever really leave Cas. 

He shows Cas in the middle of the wood that he isn’t going anywhere. Sucks marks all over his body, holds him down as he fucks Cas from behind, growling _you’re mine _into the back of Cas’ neck as he cums inside and Cas nods, _yours. _

Neither of them can remember what they were fighting about when they put their clothes back on and walk back to the impala hand in hand.

0-100. Always.

* * *


End file.
